


Kraft Dinner & No Knives

by your_world_will_crack



Category: Trailer Park Boys
Genre: Anorexia, Anorexia Nervosa, Bonding, Bulimia, Cutting, Denial, Eating Disorder, Gen, Hero Worship, M/M, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Smut, friends - Freeform, other shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:15:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_world_will_crack/pseuds/your_world_will_crack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob gets kicked out of his father's camper and he doesn't have any place to stay. </p><p>Julian comes up with a solution. </p><p>But Julian has a secret. And so does Jacob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, this was supposed to be a smutty fanfiction but now it actually has a story. 
> 
> Hang on, guys, it's gonna be a wild ride.

Julian didn't know what to do. Phil Collins was being a dick and basically kicked Jacob out of his camper. 

Jacob still dressed like Julian, and he guessed Phil had had enough of it. He figured Phil was going to let his son get into his own problems and regret them himself, then he'd finally learn. 

And perhaps Ricky was right. Maybe he _was_ getting too attached. Every since '99, when he Ricky operated their pet removal business, he was soft. He had only gotten softer with every trailer he gave back and every sacrifice he made. Not only for Bubbles and Ricky, but for people like Lahey, Randy, and Barbara. It was getting absurd but he couldn't stop himself. 

And so that's how he found himself in this predicament. Somehow feeling responsible for Jacob, he took it upon himself to figure out a solution to Jacob's sudden homelessness. 

He came up with what would hopefully be temporary solution. 

/--/

Sometime after noon Julian set out to find Jacob. Judging by Ricky's cursing, Corey and Jacob were with him. He just followed the "cocksuckers" and "God damn idiots" the sweet summer breeze carried. 

He resisted a smile when he saw Ricky flooding the breaks on the Yorker, while Corey and Jacob stood around helplessly. 

"Hey, man," Julian greeted. 

Ricky hardly heard him over the thrum of the engine and his own swears. He got out his car, rubbing his sweat-soaked face. 

"Hey, Julian." Even sweaty, Ricky managed to look tired and enviro rated all at the same time. That's what a daily cocktail of cigarettes, dope, and liquor did to you. 

"Breaks fucked?" 

"Fuck yeah, I had to get these two dummies to steal a new break line. Bleeding them has been a fucking dick." 

"You mind if I borrow Jacob for a little while?" 

Ricky shrugged, "Go for it. What you need him for?" 

"Nothing major," Julian turned to Jacob and gestured, "C'mon, let's go." 

Jacob hurried alongside Julian and they both tried to pretend Ricky and Corey weren't watching them curiously. 

To his credit, Jacob waited until they were down the gravel road a bit before bursting open with questions.

"Where are we going? Are you having me do a job?—Not sayin' I won't but—"

"Jacob, Jacob," Julian quieted, "No job. But I think I figured out a place for you to live." 

"Really? That's great. Where?" 

Julian and to be careful, "This would only be a temporary thing, until I con figure out something better but," he breathed once, twice, "you can live with me". 

There was silence and Julian dared to look at Jacob. 

His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide. Somehow Julian could see the excitement restrained underneath his skin and tact. 

"Live—with you—in your trailer—" 

"Yes, yes, you can sleep on my couch," Julian said, "Let's go get whatever stuff you have." 

"I stashed my bag of clothes and shit by Bubbles's shed." 

"Okay, that's on our way, let's go get it. I'll show you around and whatnot." 

/--/

The first thing Jacob noticed about Julian's place was he left it unlocked. Julian felt his bewilderment and explained very carefully. 

"Reverse psychology, Jacob." 

"Reverse psychology," Jacob repeated. 

It didn't really make much sense to him but Julian was decades smarter than he ever could dream. 

"But I suppose now I will be locking it since you're here. Over there's the living room where you'll be sleeping," then Julian pointed to a old cherry dresser, "you can put your clothes and whatever else in there." 

Jacob smiled and sat down on the couch, going through his bag of what little belongings he could get from his dad's camper before he was thrown out. A couple pairs of clothes, sunglasses, a stick of deodorant, a pocket knife, and half a bottle of coke. 

"The fridge has shit in it," Julian went on, "I take a shower every morning at seven. You can shower after that. I don't want you using up all my hot water. It's pretty warm out right now, but if you need a blanket, there's a few in that closet." 

"Okay, thanks, Julian." 

"No problem," Julian almost forgot, "And if anyone, specially Ricky, asks, you're living in the woods or in a slide or something." 

"Why?" 

Julian shot him a look. 

"Okay, sorry. I live under a park bench." 

"Good kid." 

"Hey, Julian?" 

"What?"

"Could we go to the convenience store? It's just, I don't have a toothbrush or shaving creme." 

Julian let out a little sigh but agreed, "Let's go now." 

They went into Julian's sleek, black daydream and while they were out, Julian decided they should stock up on food. He rarely kept food in his house. Most days he only ate small meals that were few and far between. The rum and coke usually filled him. 

It's one of the reasons he was almost never around Ricky during meal time. Though, Ricky was always eating. Of course it was pepperoni and chips, but Ricky liked those. Especially when he was high. 

But Jacob was so thin, it sometimes worried Julian. He didn't want Jacob going hungry or possibly loosing even more weight. 

So together they picked out licorice, graham crackers, popcorn, cookies, hot dogs, more rum and coke, a bag of potatoes, some sauces, noodles, instant and Kraft dinners. They piled everything into the bag seat of Julian's car and they road home in companionable silence. The only sound being the road under their tires and the station gently playing rock music. 

At least, until Queen came on. 

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Jacob cheered, "Can I turn it up?" 

Julian was in disbelief, "You like Queen?"

"Yeah man, Queen fucking rocks." 

"Fuck yeah, buddy, turn it up." 

The rest of the way home the radio drowned out the car's roar, but it couldn't drown out their slightly high, rather drunk singing. 

Well, Julian was the only one drunk. And no one would be able to tell, anyway. He could drive a pint of liquor into him and be as clear-headed as the next guy. He just handled liquor better than other people. He didn't see why it should prevent him from driving. 

Afterall, he wasn't as dumb as Ricky, who actually got caught. 

Julian shut his door and they gathered their bags of groceries and toiletries. 

"That was fuckin' awesome." 

"Fuckin' right?" Jacob accidentally gave Julian a good time and he was trying to contain his pride and excitement from bubbling out his mouth. 

It was now a little before three o'clock. They put away the groceries and Jacob set up his own little area in the bathroom and put the rest of his belongings aside. Julian sent Jacob back to Ricky while he went to deal with some bullshit with J-Roc and the Roc Pile. 

But not before they made an agreement to have Kraft dinner at eight o'clock tonight.


	2. Truth or dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Julian eat dinner and play a game.

Julian was stirring macaroni noodles, steam billowing up his face. He had taken so many hits off of Ricky's bongs to where steam couldn't phase him anymore. 

He looked over to the clock. Jacob should be coming in any minute. He tested one of the noodles and decided they were thoroughly cooked. He strained them, watching the steam spilling out of the sink and fogging up his window. He mixed the ingredients but didn't follow the exact ratios the box said. 

For one, he added more milk and butter, and he also added some real cheddar cheese. It always tasted much better this way. Few more calories but that didn't matter. He wasn't planning on eating any. 

Jacob pushed through the door smelling like a bonfire and just a little bit a dope. 

"Hey."

"Hey, Jacob. Food's almost ready."

"Sweet."

"Bonfire?"

"Uh, yeah," Jacob pointed, "Bubbles' is having a bonfire. Don't think I'm gonna go back though."

"No?"

"Mm," Jacob looked over Julian's shoulder, which wasn't too hard, given his stature. "That looks really good."

Julian smiled, "Thanks. I learned a few things from Ricky."

Jacob's eyebrows rose, "Ricky taught _you_ something?"

"Ricky's taught me lots of things," Julian reminisced, "How to care for clones, how to drive, how to mix drinks, how to take hits, how to kiss–" 

Julian tapped the wooden spoon on the edge of the pot and took down a bowl. He dished out four large spoonfuls and handed the bowl to Jacob. 

"Salt and pepper is on the table." 

"Thanks, Julian." 

He watched Jacob's thin frame slip onto the chair. He just started eating, most likely unaware of Julian's gaze. It wasn't threatening, just observant. He had nothing else to look at besides his own body and the normally empty trailer. Bubbles once told him he didn't truly like solitary, and he had to agree. 

Ricky and Bubbles were always with him. Randy hung out with them when they were younger, too. But Randy is pretty fucked now. 

Julian didn't think he was too fucked. There were a few things nobody new but everybody has their dirty laundry. He wondered what Jacob's were. 

Watching him, just that simple action was soothing. He didn't have time nor the want for leisure activities like watching tv. People were always just so much more genuine. And from what he could tell, Jacob was genuine. 

Everyone he surrounded himself with was. 

"Are you not gonna eat?" Jacob's voice was like the light shining through the fog, pulling Julian back to the present. The soundtrack of his thoughts vanished and he was suddenly made very aware of how he was awkwardly leaning against the counter, lost in thought, staring at the first person to spend the night in his trailer in years. 

"Uh, no, no I'm good," was all he could put together. 

"Really?" Jacob didn't understand, "It's really good–and didn't you say we were gonna eat dinner together? So, doesn't that mean both people are eating?"

Julian did want to eat. The smell of macaroni and his cheese special was still temptingly gooey in the air. 

"I just don't have an appetite," he insisted. 

Julian did, in fact, have an appetite. His mouth salivated at the thought of eating something that smelled so good, but his image loathed it. To quench his mouth and fill his stomach with something, he took a sip of what was mostly rum. 

It burned as it settled in his stomach and made it warm inside. The burn was always pleasant. His stomach used to reject the copious amounts of alcohol, but eventually it had to accept them. 

Especially when it's just about the only thing you're supplying your body with. 

Jacob just shrugged. 

"You should have seconds," Julian suggested. 

"Mm, good idea," he slurped up the last few noodles and stood up, brushing past Julian to scoop out the remaining macaroni. 

Jacob polished off the rest and Julian cleaned up the dishes and set them to dry. 

"So, uh, Julian."

"Yeah?"

"What do you do around here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, do you watch tv or play games or what?"

Julian shrugged, "I guess I just kinda sit in that chair right there," 

"Huh," Jacob said, "that's a little sad. Would you like to do something?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno, truth or dare?"

"Isn't that a little juvenile?"

"Well, there's no real difference. Now instead of asking if you've ever kissed anyone we ask, y'know, dirtier stuff."

"Hmm," he mused, tossing back what was left in his glass, "sure." 

Julian refilled the glass with slightly more Coke in it this time, and then he and Jacob sat on the couch. 

Jacob naturally started, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." 

"Who was the first person you ever kissed?"

Julian laughed, "I thought you said we asked dirtier stuff than that, man."

"You're blushing!" He pointed out. 

"Yeah, whatever, man," joked Julian, "ffff, it was Ricky."

"What?"

"Yeah, man," Julian was grinning so wide he thought he might get stuck that way, "I didn't know how to kiss and so taught me, I told you that."

"Yeah, but I thought he like, talked you through it, not showed you with his body." 

"Pff. Alright, your turn."

"Truth."

"Ever suck a dick?"

"What? What kinda question is that?"

"Hey, it's only fair."

"Fine," he blushed embarrassedly, "Uh, no, no I can't say that I have."

"Alright, uh, I'll do truth again."

Jacob didn't miss a beat, "Did you like kissing Ricky?"

"Oh, fuck," Julian thought, "The last time was so long ago. But uh, yeah, I believe I did. No different than kissing anyone else."

"I'll do dare."

"Hmm," he had to think about this one, "I dare you to . ." he reached over and grabbed his half a pint of rum, "down this whole thing."

"What?"

"In one go."

"Pff, no way, man."

"C'mom, Jacob, I know you can do it."

"I'm fuckin' weak, I haven't been drinking for thirty years." 

"Only twentyish," Julian corrected, "Y'know, refusal gives you no points."

"There's points?"

"You never played truth or dare with points?"

"No?"

"Then how do you tell if someone wins?"

"You can win at truth or dare?"

"What's the point in playing otherwise?"

"To get girls to kiss you and shit."

Julian laughed. 

Jacob was indignant, "well, not every one of us is a suave as you or whatever Ricky is. We have to work for our pleasure." 

"Ha, pleasure. Like you're not totally a virgin."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

"Truth: are you a virgin?"

"Hey, it's your turn."

"Ugh, fine. Truth."

"Why you gotta be a pussy, Julian?"

"I'm not a pussy. C'mon, ask me."

"Okay, okay," Jacob contemplated, "What do you hate more than anything in the world?"

"Fat."

"Fat?"

"On myself."

"Oh, so you like staying in shape?"

Julian realized he just had a lapse he never expected. So Jacob managed to notice something was slightly off with his response.

It just took one second too long. That one second extra that takes someone to form a lie.

"Yeah," and to really sell it he added, "It keeps you busy in prison."

"Huh," Jacob watched him a little bit more closely, examining his figure. 

He knew Julian was muscular. Everyone with eyes knew it. But now, in the back of his mind, Jacob recalled how he never say Julian eating. 

He thought this was weird, considering how often Ricky had some chips in his mouth, and Bubble's love for pancakes. But everywhere Julian was, it stuffed himself full of rum and coke. 

Though, Jacob had grown up in this environment, some of the things they spouted off about in school slipped into his mind. It's actually quite hard not to pick up a thing or two wherever you were.

And one thing he distantly remembered was something about vices and chemical dependency. 

But Julian was cool. 

Julian was above the alcohol. He was beyond the concepts and foundations of the "experts". Julian was one of the unique stones that formed in the strangest of conditions, far past human understanding. 

Wasn't he?

Julian's life didn't seem like it was in tatters, and he drank constantly. All the people he remembered in the video were dirty and gross and rude. 

Julian was organized. He was fantastic at controlling Ricky, the infamous loose—perhaps wonton—cannon, coming up with money making schemes, and taking care of his friends. He was everything that was amazing to Jacob. 

A man uncontrolled by his so called "vices". Unlike his father, trying to fill the void of the mother he never met with cheeseburgers. 

Julian was a defiance to the statistics and the profiling, and Jacob hoped he, too, could go above that world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, I hope you liked it. Next chapter should be up soon. I really like where the whole story is heading.


	3. Big boys don't cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

"Truth or dare?" Julian asked, taking a sip. 

"Hm, truth."

"Why'd the mustard tiger kick you out?"

Jacob shrugged, "he said I was being disrespectful. He's been a real dick lately."

"Mm, I understand that shit." Fuck fathers. Only good one he ever knew was Ricky. 

"Truth or dare?"

Julian thought for a moment, "Fuck it, dare."

"I dare you to go a whole day without drinking." 

For a second Julian thought he couldn't breathe, "What?"

"Twenty-four hours."

"Fuck that."

"Alright," Jacob shrugged, a smile curling the corners of his lips. _A shit smile_ Lahey would call it. "Guess I thought the infamous Julian never backed down from a challenge."

"Oh, go fuck yourself."

Jacob just giggled. He had know idea why it was going so well. Julian seemed different when he wasn't stressed out about drug deals, Ricky's shenanigans, or any of the other drama that constantly cropped up in the park. Perhaps this was how he was like with his guards down, completely relaxed. 

"Fine," Julian agreed, "One day, starting tomorrow morning. Truth or dare?"

Jacob was so amazed it took him a few seconds to process, "Uh, dare."

"Dance."

"Dance?"

"Dance."

"Without music?"

"Mhmm." 

Jacob didn't back down this time. He got up and went to the center of the room; he starting sashaying his hips and taping his foot to the rhythm of an imaginary song. His shoulders and hips rocked in opposite directions, fully accentuating his lithe waist. Jacob's black t-shirt stretched tight across his body, and it even slipped up a little, exposing some pale skin beneath. 

Initially, Julian thought it would be funny, watching the awkward Jacob Collins doing the disco without any music. He wasn't expecting such an alluring show out of it. 

But here he was, mouth dry, drink forgotten, completely lost in the movements of Jacob's arms, running down his thighs and all the way up to his chest, tantalizingly. Julian noticed how Jacob's face was clean shaven, and his dyed hair clung to his cheeks. And then Jacob closed his eyes, licked his lips, and tossed his head back. 

Julian was distantly aware that he was feeling flushed. 

"Ahem."

That seemed to break Jacob out of his dance session. 

"Uh, yeah, I think you win truth or dare," Julian decided, "fucking hell."

Jacob's breathing was a little heavier and he didn't seem to realize the situation. 

He laughed, "Good. Best at truth or dare."

Julian got up, "I uh, I think I'm gonna go to bed," he didn't look Jacob in the eye, "Do you have everything you need?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks."

Julian headed down the hallway, turning off the kitchen light on his way. He gently closed his door and Jacob was alone with the small amber light in the living room. 

Jacob waited about ten minutes before changing out of his clothes. He kept his boxers on but he picked out an old t-shirt and set it aside. He grabbed his pocket knife and flipped it open. It made a metallic click as it slid past the lock. He turned off the light and sat on the one part of the floor where the pale street lights filtered through the window. 

He brought the knife up to just under his collar bone, looking at the scars. All of them different colors in respect to their ages. Some of them were fine, years old; others were still scabbed, barely a week old.

He had a good time today, but that wasn't relevant. It was hard. The stress of his exams, the expectations of his father, and the knowledge of his own failures made him distressed enough to cry. 

But boys don't cry, especially big boys. That's what Thomas always told him. And Thomas was powerful, he intimidated people. And Julian was even better than Thomas. 

Julian had muscles and brains, a nice car and a fair demeanor. Maybe if his skin scarred over he'd be more of a man. Just like Julian.

And that's why he drew the blade across his skin. That justification was more than enough for him. After he bled he became exhausted and he could always sleep well. He'd wake up the next day feeling well-rested, relishing in the ache of his cuts. 

He cut and cut, now. Over and over again; diagonally, vertically, horizontally, it didn't matter. When they intersected a nice grouping of blood would form. 

He never counted. Counting just made him upset. He thought as though there were never enough cuts marring his body. Sometimes Jacob thought that it would never be enough, not until every inch of skin was sore and dripping and scarred. 

He finished, delighting in the burn that tore across his chest. Jacob tossed the knife in his bag, grabbed some damp paper towels and drug them across his skin, rubbing the fresh blood and bringing more to the surface. The towel quickly darkened and Jacob sighed, pleased. 

He tossed it into the garbage, making sure to wedge it under the Kraft box from earlier.

He knew the bleeding would stop soon and he wasn't worried about a little bit of blood getting on the inside of his t-shirt. He wore dark shirts for a reason. 

Jacob pulled a shirt on and after making sure the knife was safely hidden away, he curled up on the couch, holding his arms across his throbbing chest, and drifted off to sleep. 

 

In the morning, Julian was the first to wake up. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and began making himself his first drink of the day. But then he remembered their dare. He grumbled as he set the rum back in the cabinet. 

He settled for pouring straight coke into his tumbler. He sipped on that and disappeared into the bathroom, going through his whole morning routine. 

 

When he came out, Jacob was in the kitchen, making himself some eggs. Julian ignored the empty feeling in his stomach and habitually took a swig from his glass. Only this time there was no liquor, so there was no burn; only the gentle bubbling of carbonation in his stomach. It was slightly sickening. 

"Good morning," Jacob said, over the sizzle and snap of the eggs. 

"Morning." Julian reviewed his informal to-do list in his head. 

He needed money, first and foremost, he always needed money. He had to come up with some kind of scheme that hopefully wouldn't give him and Ricky much jail time. 

Of course, Ricky was growing right now. He always was. Julian was planning on managing his sales again. Maybe they could find another big, one-time sale. Retirement could be in their hands once again; although it seemed that it was more often cuffs around their wrists. 

If he went to jail again, Jacob could watch his place. Hopefully it wouldn't get fucked over like the other times. 

"I'm going over to Bubbles'," Julian said. 

Jacob looked over his shoulder, "you don't want breakfast?"

Julian shook his head. 

Jacob frowned but shrugged, before remembering, "hey, what about our bet?"

"Relax," he handed Jacob the glass, letting him take a sip. 

"It's just pop."

"Yep," Julian stepped out, "see you later, Jacob."

"Bye, Julian."

 

Jacob finished making his eggs and he finished his morning routine as well. He showered, looking at the lines of scabs across his upper chest. He turned the water up to scalding and enjoyed the sting it brought over his skin. 

He dried off and put his clothes on. His cuts were always just below his shirt's neckline. Over these years he had gotten exceptionally good at hiding them. 

He cleaned up the pans and made sure everything was in order. He leaned against the counter and something occurred to him: 

He needed to go find Julian. Julian probably had something cooking up, some scheme. He could help. 

He set out to Bubbles' shed after locking the trailer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still sorry, lmao.
> 
> As a person who has struggled with self-harm and an ED, these descriptions aren't entirely made up. Each person's experiences with these will differentiate, as that is the nature of such a personal problem. 
> 
> I hope you like it; the next chapter will really be picking up with the boys' shenanigans. uwu I've never done a slow-build story before and I'm excited to be building up the angst.


	4. Blackjack and a Plan

Julian walked over to Bubbles' shed and saw his friend was already awake. Bubbles had always been an early riser; meanwhile Ricky wouldn't appear for a couple hours. Which was fine, the morning was always peaceful and quite, but around eleven it would start to get boring. Both he and Bubbles would get anxious for some excitement and then Ricky always showed up. 

Bubbles was playing solitaire on the grass while Shitrock gently batted at the piles, and The Purr Monster was curled up between Bubbles' crossed legs, doing what he did best. 

"Hey," Julian greeted.

"Hey, Julian," Bubbles didn't look up from his game. 

"Haven't seen you play cards in a long time." 

"Well, yeah," Bubbles scratched The Purr Monster behind his ear, "I can't let Ricky see me playing. He'll get all pissy."

Julian sat down next to Bubbles and watched him play. 

"Well, solitaire isn't the type of casino game."

"You think Ricky will understand that, Julian?"

He agreed that Ricky probably wouldn't. Julian just watched Bubbles playing himself for a few hours. He sipped on his coke. Another one of Bubbles' cats showed up and curled at Julian's feet. 

But eventually they had their fill of the gentle breeze and the singing birds. It was time for excitement. 

It was time for Ricky to show up. 

"Hey, guys," Ricky greeted. 

"Hey, Ricky," Julian replied. 

Ricky sat next to Julian and grabbed his drink. He took a sip and was shocked. 

"Fucking coke, Julian? What is this shit?"

"It was a dare."

"A dare?" Bubbles and Ricky looked back and forth to each other, and to their friend. 

"Yeah," Julian admitted, "Jacob dared me to." Ricky handed Julian back his glass. 

"Ff," Ricky chose to wrap is brain around something less confusing, "Bubbles, why do you got the cards out?"

"I'm just playing a little solitaire, Ricky," he defended. 

"Yeah? Well a little solietear turns into a little poker which turns into a big fucking nightmare."

Rick, relax," Julian chided. 

"Don't tell me to relax, Julian. I thought we were never gonna forget what happened at Daellis." 

"Ricky, Daellis was ten years ago," Bubbles mentioned.

"So? Next thing we know, Bubbles is beaten up for counting cards, we loose all our money, I have a broken arm, and Julian wakes up in Halifax. No, no fucking way."

"Ricky, it's not gonna turn out like that this time. Bubbles is just playing a few card games with himself."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna be around while you're doing that." Ricky got up and went off to do who knows what. 

"Hey, Bubs."

"What?"

"Can you still count cards?"

"Of course I can, it's not something you forge—" Bubbles looked sharply at his friend, "Julian, are you thinking something greasy."

"It's not greasy," he said, "it's not even illegal."

Bubbles looked at him. 

"Gambling."

He sucked in air, "Yeah, Julian, gambling's not illegal, but you know what is? Fucking counting cards, that's what."

"Bubbles, just hear me out."

"No, Julian—"

"Just—"

"Julian, I will kick your stomach into your throat—"

"Hey guys, what's going on?" Jacob was, at times, tactless. But this was just Julian needed.

"Not much, just trying to get Bubbled to agree to a little business opportunity with me." 

Julian took note of Jacob's appearance. His hair was freshly combed and he wore a dark plaid shirt and some old jeans. Maybe he wasn't going to be dressing like him anymore. 

Jacob nervously stood until Julian gestured to the empty space to his right. He sat down and Julian realized how nice he smelled: like cinnamon spice, pine, and sweet apples. So different than his own heavy cologne and gentle metallic scent. 

"What kind of business?" Jacob asked. 

"Oh, it's not really a business idea Jacob, it's more of an illegal fucking charade." 

Julian grimaced, "Bubbs, calm down. It's just some card games." 

"Oh, well, maybe I can help."

Julian and Bubbles both looked confusedly at Jacob.

"I'm pretty good at blackjack." 

"Jacob," Bubbles warned, "this isn't playing against the Mustard Tiger for cheeseburgers; this is big time, illegal fucking card counting." 

"Well, sometimes Randy and my dad and Thomas play, and I beat all of them." 

Thoughts were running through Julian faster than that time he stuffed himself full of swish. 

Bubbles ignored Jacob, "All I wanted to do today was play a few games but you somehow managed to fuck that all up."

"Bubs, just calm down. Jacob, you say you're good at blackjack. Why don't you play Bubbles and we'll see. Bubbs, you be dealer." 

Bubbles relented. He cleaned up his solitaire set up , _I was loosing anyway_ , he thought. He shuffled the cards and got up. 

"Alright, son of the Mustard Tiger," he sat on Jacob's right, "what's your bet?"

"Uh," Jacob pulled out his wallet. He set a 5 dollar bill on the grass between him. Bubbles matched his bet. 

"The point of blackjack is what, again?" Julian asked.

Bubbles gave Julian a hard stare, "To get to twenty-one, or as close as possible." 

He distributed the cards as Julian watched intently. Jacob got a 6 and a 7, totaling 13. Bubbles got a 10 and his second card remained unflipped. 

"Hit," Jacob said. 

Bubbles gave him another card. It was another 7. 

"Stand," Jacob said. 

Bubbles flipped over his second card. A 4, totaling fourteen. Bubbles doled himself another card, a 9. That made 23.

"Bust," Jacob grinned. 

Bubbles handed Jacob his $10. 

Jacob raised the same bet as before and Bubbles met it again. 

Bubbles gave dished out their cards again. He had a 7 and Jacob had a 2 and a 10. 

"Hit." 

Bubbles gave him another card. A six this time. 

"Stand." 

Bubbles flipped over his card; a 3. He drew another card; a nine. Making it 18. 

Bubbles collected his winnings. 

They played on, back and forth like this, for a while. By the end, Bubbles had lost all the money in his wallet, a grand total of $30. 

Jacob put all his earnings on the table, including the money he already had, adding to $60. 

"It's kinda odd that the bank ran out of money," he sniggered. 

"Fuck." 

"What do you raise?"

Bubbles thought for a moment, then his eyes wandered over to Julian.

"I raise him. Julian, get over there."

"What?"

"I'm betting you, get over to the betting pile." 

"I'm worth more than sixty bucks." 

"Says who? How much money you got to your name? Get the fuck over there."

Julian swore under his breath but never-the-less obliged. He, as gingerly as his muscles allowed, sat down next to the pile of money. 

Bubbles doled out the final round of cards. 

Jacob got a queen and a nine. Bubbles got an ace.

"You gonna take out insurance?"

Jacob thought about it, "no. Hit." 

"What? That's nineteen." Julian was baffled. 

"Hit," he repeated. 

Bubbles tossed him another card. It was a 2. 

"Blackjack," Julian whispered. 

Bubbles flipped over his card. A nine. He gave himself another card. The five made t 15. He pulled another one. An eight. That made it 23. 

Bubbles sighed and Shitrock meowed, confused. Jacob went to collect his earnings. He pocketed his original thirty dollars and handed Bubbles back his money, who accepted begrudgingly. 

"You can own yourself again," Jacob nervously offered. 

Julian grabbed Jacob's shoulder with his free hand. 

"You and me are partners now." 

"Partners?" 

"Julian, blackjack doesn't require any skill. It's just luck."

"And the knowledge of when to hit or stand," Jacob added, slightly insulted. 

"Well, either way, Jacob has the luck and the skill." Julian was ecstatic. Jacob could win him big. 

Bubbles gave him a funny look.

"Julian, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" 

Jacob walked down the gravel road a little ways away. Once Bubbles was satisfied he was far enough away, he spoke. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind? He's a kid! You can't et him involved in this gambling nonsense, you'll wind up waking up on a roof in Halifax again." 

"Bubs, it'll be fine. Jacob will play a few rounds, I'll be there with him. Make sure nothing goes awry. It's not like we're counting cards."

"Oh, yeah, Julian, it's not a problem. Where you gonna get the money to even gamble with, huh?" 

"We'll play on credit." 

"Credit," Bubbles muttered, "that's just perfect." 

"Yeah, it is, we'll use fake names, they'll never find us if we get into the negatives." 

Fine, Julian. Do whatever you want, but I'm not letting you go alone with Jacob. I'll come with you, I'll watch your back. Maybe I'll play a few games." 

"Fantastic buddy," he clasped Bubbles on the shoulder. 

Bubbles muttered to himself as they walked back to Jacob. He picked up his cards and stuffed them in his pocket. 

"What's going on?" Jacob asked. 

Julian patter him on the back, "nothing much, just that all of us are going out to the casino tonight." 

This was good. They'd win some money. And by some he meant thousands. They'd never have to break the law again. Julian could make money off of Jacob. Bubbles could feed his kitties for the rest of his life. They could live like kings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackjack is just about the only game I really know off the top of my head. I may or may not add poker. We'll see. 
> 
> I hope you guys liked it. This was a little gift for being so late with the last chapter.


	5. The Road To Halifax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my sweet child, Julian ugh.

Julian and Jacob went back to the trailer and gathered some supplies. Luckily, Jacob had barely unpacked his things. Julian got a small duffel bag and tossed in some clothes and a few other things. 

It was a bit of an after-thought, but he found himself thumbing his gun, nervously. He'd learned a great many things in his life, especially from Ricky. One of those was to be prepared. 

Daellis could never happen again, he was sure of that. He wouldn't let it. But just in case, he fished out some rounds from his bedside dresser and shoved them in an inside pocket of the bag. 

He found Jacob in the living room, already lacing up his shoes. They left and met Bubbles, who was eagerly pacing back-and-forth beside Julian's car. 

"You ready to go, Bubbs?" Julian padded down the steps and slung his bag into the truck of his car. He took Jacob's bag and set it right next beside it. 

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bubbles groaned. He shoved his bag and Julian slammed the trunk closed. 

Jacob went for the passenger seat. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Bubbles questioned. 

"Oh, uh, sorry."

"Get in the back, skin suit."

"Bubbs, lay off."

They all got in the car and Julian started the engine. The car roared to life and just as he was about to take it out of park, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He pulled the key out of the ignition and gently pressed his forehead against the wheel, sighing. 

Ricky was doing his best to run towards them. He had too much speed and slammed into Julian's door, though it didn't seem to phase him. 

"Where the fuck are you two going?" Ricky was out of breath and slightly angry. He was wearing the same old dirty shirt they saw him in earlier, only this time it had some more grass stains on it. Probably from falling.

"Rick, we're just going out to uh," he fumbled, "a b–bar."

"Oh, you're going out to a bar now, are ya?"

"Ye–Yes."

"What's it called?" A large grin twisted the corners of Ricky's mouth up. He knew what he was doing.

"The, ff–royal dedaffff–"

Ricky chuckled, "you fucking dummy, it's gonna be Daellis all over again."

"It's not gonna be like that." 

"You're right, it's not. That's why I'm coming with. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you. Fuck knows you're terrible at watching yourself. You can't even lie to me, how're you gonna handle yourself if someone starts giving you trouble." 

"Alright, fine, Rick, get in the back." Truth be told, he fully expected this. 

Ricky got in behind Julian and was floored at what he saw. 

"Why in the fuck is the twiggy-Trevor-replacement here?" 

"He's good at blackjack," Bubbles supplied, "even beat me." 

Ricky raised an eyebrow, "you beat Bubbles at a card game? That's pretty impressive. Don't think it means shit though," Julian started the car back up and they took off down the road, "there's gonna be loads of people there, and they're not gonna be intimidated by some stick." 

"That's why I'm gonna be with him," Julian explained, "you're gonna be with Bubbles."

"Where we going? Because we can't go back to Daellis."

"We're not going there, we're going to a casino in Halifax. We'll be there in an hour." 

"Why can't we go to Daellis?" Jacob asked. 

Julian didn't respond. 

Jacob got worried. 

"Why can't we go to Daellis?" He repeated. 

Ricky laughed, "you bastards didn't even tell him? That's perfect," he turned to Jacob, his green-blue eyes unrelenting and casually half-lided, "when all of us were twenty we decided to try our luck at a casino. Bubbles was fucking amazing at counting cards, so we figured we'd come home with some money. Unfort-u-lent-ly, casinos don't take kindly to some kid in glasses conning them out of their money. I was pretty high that night, said some stuff, forgot some stuff, fought some people, broke a bone, no big deal. Julian some how wakes up thirty kilometers away in Halifax. We have no fucking way to communicate. Bubbles is under a hotel bed holding a coat hanger, and we got no fucking money." He turned back to his friends, leaning between their seats, "I fucking hate casinos. And you're all gonna wind up fucked, and it's gonna be up to me to put your arms and legs back together." 

"Ricky, we'll be fine," was all Julian had to say. 

He harrumphed but never the less surrendered, sinking back against the leather seats.

They drove the rest of the way in near silence, only the sound of the radio and the tires on the pavement filling their ears. The sun was setting in the western horizon and it painted the sky in stunning shades of rose, lilac, and orange. Color bled through the clouds and spilled across the land, washing the world beneath in beautiful, picturesque light. 

 

Julian looked at Bubbles, sitting next to him. His friend was the smartest guy he knew, but also probably one of the most worrisome. Bubbles was both an anxious, emotional ball, and he made Julian worry in turn. Bubbles could break down and bring out Conky. But ever since he drowned the puppet, Julian thought he was doing better. 

Bubbles needed money, and he thought what they were doing was fine. It wasn't illegal and if they ran it any trouble, he had is gun, and Ricky most assuredly did as well. 

He noticed Ricky in his rear-view mirror, smoking a joint and rubbing his face. He was truly glad Ricky came along with them. He planned on stopping by his car before they left and asking him to join, but Ricky took care of that for him. Showed up all on his own, like he did sometimes. 

Bubbles and Ricky were his best friends. He had gotten them into a lot of shit over the years. 

Both of them going to jail meant they left Bubbles alone. Throughout childhood, Bubbles thought he'd never be alone. His mom and dad were with him for years until all of a sudden they just disappeared. Some collectors had gone after them for the money his dad owed, and in the end it was better for them to leave Bubbles. Their son's life shouldn't be uprooted his because of their mistakes. That's what Julian figured their reasoning was. 

In the end, he was selfishly happy with their decision. From then on, Bubbles lived with him. He couldn't imagine life without him. 

And Ricky, he had only been a victim of Julian's schemes. While he was an accomplice, Julian needed Ricky beside him. They committed crimes together and with him, the thought of going to jail was more bearable. 

But that wasn't the life he wanted them to continue living. He constantly talked about retirement, andne day, they'd hold it in their hands. The key to no more jail visits and no more stress for Bubbles. 

Julian thought today would be that day. After tonight, all that would worry them was deciding which double-wide trailer to buy, and what palette to paint it with.

And then he thought about Jacob. Jacob was young. Practically the age they were when Daellis happened. Maybe if they got rich tonight, Jacob could avoid wasting a good chunk of his going to and from jail. 

He'd watch Jacob tonight. He was sure some of those casino dicks wouldn't take kindly to the poor kid. Jacob couldn't help that he was so thin, though. He was tall, but his timidity didn't win him any favors. 

Jacob would surely be eaten alive. 

Since he discovered Jacob working at the pizza shop, he didn't mind his presence. Jacob was easygoing and rather level-headed. He had a few conversations with him in the short time they worked together and he noticed the kid had some repression. He often stifled himself from speaking. 

Then they found Jacob dressed like him on their search for jail cover. He understood it and he didn't mind it. In the back of his mind he wished Jacob had some better role models than himself to look up to. But for a kid who's father was Philadelphia fucking Collins, he supposed someone like himself seemed admirable. 

And then he thought Jacob had died. And then they found him and his two friends, starving and freezing in the forest. 

Then he got dysentery, and a few days later he still got up and pulled his IV bag around, looking for Julian, nearly begging for a job. 

It made his stomach twist, thinking of Jacob's loyalty. 

He didn't think the Mustard Tiger was as bad a guy as his own father was, but that didn't mean Jacob didn't yearn for a way out. 

He could deliver Jacob's way out, so long as he didn't get too attached. 

He was attractive. Though, Julian found most level-headed, kind-hearted people attractive. 

Jacob's loyalty was something he had never experienced before, discounting Bubbles and Ricky. Erica was a cop. He should've know better than to romp with her. And same with that Bible Pimp's 'daughter'. He wanted stability and a family life. 

He wanted to be left alone, with his fortune, living his days quietly, with rum and coke in his hand. 

One of the reasons he drank was to stop such clear and honest thoughts from entertaining his brain. Thinking of the things he made his friends suffer through, and the complicated feelings surrounding Jacob, made him feel all too sober. 

In fact, he was more sober than he had been in years. Luckily, the new plan was here to distract him, but now with the empty road in front of him, the trailer park behind him, and wealth or ruin laying just ahead, he couldn't think anything but honest thoughts. 

It was aggravating and too real. 

He hadn't eaten in a long time and he was starting to feel light headed. He downed the remaining coke with a grunt and turned to his companions. 

"Just about there, boys." 

"Fucking finally," Ricky complained, "I can't handle this sitting in one place for so long, especially in the back of this piece of shit." 

"Leave the car alone," Julian grumbled. 

"What's your plan, Julian? Huh?" 

"Spend a few nights here, get a couple rooms, and retire by Monday." 

"Flawless," Bubbles surmised. 

"Hey, Julian," Jacob piped up. 

"Yeah, buddy?" Julian checked Jacob in his rear-view mirror. The heavy brown eyes of his fr-friend? were wide and it seemed Jacob bounced with nervous energy. 

"Are we, uh, are gonna be alright?" 

Ricky just mocking laughed and Bubbles remained pointedly silent, staring at the passing cars and rolling scenery. 

"Hey, hey," Julian frowned, "where is this coming from?" 

Jacob glanced down and bit his lip. 

Julian softened, his voice going impossibly soft, "you can say it," he coaxed. 

Jacob looked back up, "I just have a bad feeling." 

That seemed to amuse Bubbles, who turned around and snorted lightly, "I've been feeling the exact same thing for years, just before these two get hauled off to jail again," he turned back in his seat and made Julian look at him, "nice to see someone else has some intuition." 

"Boys, boys, it's gonna be fine. Like I said, it's not illegal. I'm here, Ricky's here, it's all gonna go smoothly. We'll get some rooms, play some blackjack, make some money, and everything will be golden. Trust me," he patted Bubbles on the shoulder and squeezed Jacob's knee. Ricky observed in silence, a truly rare thing to witness. "I've thought of everything. Nothing can go wrong." 

That seemed to calm their nerves. If only his stomach could be quelled. A small twitch found its way into the hands which normally held s cool glass of rum and coke perfection. Thankfully, the day would end soon. Maybe he could make it through the rest of the day without a drop. 

If not, they _were_ going to casino. He wagered he could hold of his . . infatuation with the drink until tomorrow. 

He noticed a sign and turned down the off-ramp, entering the neon nightmare that was Halifax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready you fuckers, shit's gonna get fucked.


	6. "We'll Make A Ton"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get hotel rooms and have a snack before they gamble.

They drove for ten more minutes before they found the brightly illuminated facade of the casino. They rolled down the smooth tarmac and entered a parking ramp belonging to a hotel. 

"How many nights are we gonna be staying here for?" Ricky asked.

"However long it takes for us to make enough to retire," Julian told, "hopefully not past Monday." 

"Alright. Let's fucking do it," agreed Ricky. 

They parked on the third level and Julian made sure to lock the doors after they pulled out all their luggage. 

"What time is it?" Julian asked as they walked towards the elevator, punching the lobby button.

"It is six nineteen," Bubbles informed. 

"Alright, here's the plan," Julian began. Jacob was on his left listening intently. Julian could still smell him, especially this close, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Ricky lazily leaned against the wall and Bubbles fiddled with his bags. "We're gonna get some rooms, drop off our stuff, and meet back in the lobby at seven o'clock. Got it?" 

The elevator dinged and the doers swished open. They entered a large and cleanly lobby room with a tasteful red and a pale-gold scheme. Across the room was a high counter with two receptionists. 

"How may I help you?" The red-headed receptionist asked. She had thin lips and dark eyes. Though she smiled, it was only customary. 

"Hi, uh, what do have available for rooms?"

"Let me see," she looked at her computer and typed away, "it looks like all we have available is one double and one of the honey-moon suites." 

"So how many beds is that?" 

"Well, the double has two full-sized beds in it, while the honey-moon has one king-sized bed," she looked plainly at Julian. 

Bubbles and Jacob had wondered over to gawk at the fancy lighting and flatscreen TVs that lined the walls of the lobby. Various news and entertainment stations were playing and they helped themselves to some complimentary citrus water. It even came out of one of those big glass containers with the little cone-shaped cups in the dispenser. 

The other receptionist regarded their group with a sort of disdained look on her face but never the less returned to her own business. 

"Alright, we'll take it. How much?"

She turned back to her computer and added the totals. 

"How many nights?"

"Two nights, three days." 

"Then your total will be nine hundred and fifty dollars." 

"What?"

In Julian's defense, he hadn't paid for a room at a hotel in a long time, not to mention as one as high-class at this. 

"Julian, look, they even have wifi!" Bubbles called out. His heart sent a soft pang through his chest at the sight. Bubbles and Jacob both completely mesmerized by their surroundings, gleefully pointing and oohing at the decorum, clothes, and technology. This was almost like a vacation for them. 

Beside him, Ricky just chuckled. He handed the lady a credit card and she hesitated before taking it. 

"Mr. Lahey, can I see some ID?" 

"Certainly," Ricky pulled out a fake driver's license. 

She nodded and swiped the card. She handed Ricky the card and room keys. 

"The double is room 412; the suite is room 708."

"Thanks," uttered Ricky. They walked towards Bubbles and Jacob and quickly pulled them into the elevator. 

"Bubbs," Ricky handed him a card, "you're with me in 412." 

"Would you look at that?" Bubbles giggled, "electronic." 

Ricky snickered, "Julian, have fun with Jacob." He left it at that and ignored the glare Julian sent him. Jacob was too excited to catch on and just hurriedly accepted his room key. 

Ricky and Bubbles got off on the fourth floor. 

"Don't forget, seven o'clock," called Julian.

"We won't," Bubbles promised. They disappeared down the hallway to the right as the elevator doors softly closed. 

They road the rest of the way in silence, Julian just watching Jacob run his eyes all over the glowing buttons. It was like watching a kid in a candy store. Phil Collins had probably never rented a place so flashy as this. It made something inside him swell, knowing he could provide such joy to his friends. 

The door dinged and they made their way down the long hallway on the left towards their room. They noticed their level had its own private elevator that led down a floor, to what was presumably a honeymoon suite only accessible pool, hot tub, and sauna. They found their room and Julian carefully read the instructions on the back of the card. 

He swiped it down and pulled the card back up as the mechanism chimed and blinked green. He fumbled for a light switch and was thoroughly impressed by the makeup of the room. 

A well furnished living room, an in-suite hot tub, a sparkling bathroom, a mini-fridge most likely stocked with booze, and a big flatscreen TV hanging on the wall directly across from the king bed, which was made up with the softest, black silk sheets he had ever felt. 

"Um, Julian, there's only one bed." 

"Yeah, I know. I was hoping there'd be a couch but it just looks like there's only chairs. Sorry bud. It's a big bed, though."

Jacob shrugged, a little bit of nervousness bubbling inside his chest, "okay." 

They unloaded what little belongings they brought and got ready to return to the lobby. Jacob walked over to the hot tub and whistled.

"Fancy," he tapped the rim of it, hearing only clean ceramic ping back. 

Julian pulled the curtain back. They had a marvelous view of the rest of the city and all its twinkling lights and clamoring night life. He noticed to his left there was a fire escape that probably wasn't entirely up to code. 

He shrugged, shut the curtains, grabbed keys and they left the room. 

 

Bubbles and Ricky were already waiting for them in the lobby. Ricky had changed out of his clothes—into what, Julian didn't quite know. Ricky didn't bring a bag, so it must've been one of Bubbles' shirts. Assuming something of Bubbles could fit Ricky. 

It was a nice, dark grey jacket that somehow managed to look somewhat respectable with his track pants. That is, if one were tactless. He looked a strange man, one who worked long hours in an office but was trying to manage his diabetes with the limited time he got to work out at the gym. Mixing his clothes together saved time and somehow seemed acceptable to the odd fellow. That's the part Ricky looked. The guy who hadn't changed his hairstyle since he was twelve and enjoyed the simpler aspects of life, like getting drunk and high, and having a good time. 

Bubbles pressed his light blue collar down a little more orderly and had rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, exposing his pale arms. He rung his fingers together and cracked the knuckles one by one. 

"How's your room?" teased Julian. His eyes never left Julian.

Jacob answered before he could, "it's great, it's got it's own private jacuzzi," he said, enthusiastically. 

Mirth danced in Ricky's eyes and Julian made a point not to meet his gaze. 

"Let's go." He abandoned his glass in the car when they arrived and his hands twitched for something to grip. He carefully felt for his gun as they made their way to the door. 

They exited the lobby through the same elevator they came in and found their way out of the parking garage and onto the busy streets. It wasn't hard for them to find their way to the casino. Though a few blocks away, they could clearly see its bright, fluorescent lights and choreographed water show. 

The place practically begged them to set foot on it. 

They wasted no time in weaving their way through the sidewalks and across the bustling streets. The city was flush with people speaking in all different tongues and wearing flashy clothes. They spent so much time in the microcosm of Sunnyvale and its surrounding city that they sometimes forgot there was a world beyond their home and the uninhabited forest. 

They walked up to the door and were greeted by what could only be described as a much more elegant version of a bouncer. For one, there were six of them. For two, they were dressed in matching black suits with red ties and red hats. 

One of them, a black man with his hands politely held behind his back, approached them. 

"Are you gentlemen looking to gamble this evening?" He eyed their clothes but made little judgement. He was far more interested in their faces and their eyes. 

"Yes, sir." Julian said. 

He smiled, and Julian made note of his name tag: Garet, "then may I see some ID?"

Julian handed him the fake ID he had made a few years ago. One of Ricky's best works, if it was honest. 

"Thank you, Mr. Randy Latourneau." He handed Julian back his ID and took Ricky's and Bubbles'. "Mr. Jim Lahey and Mr. Phillip Collins." He gestured for Jacob's, who nervously handed him his real ID. "Mr. Jacob Collins . . Any relation?" 

"Yeah," Bubbles budged in, "he's my nephew." He got real close to Garet and realized just how much taller the man was compared to himself. 

"Hm, make sure you keep an eye on your uncle. Make sure he doesn't spend away your college fund, you hear?" He smiled, showing his bright white teeth, but Julian was ever vigilant. Smiles told you a lot. He handed Jacob back his ID and the four of them had their hands stamped. 

They pushed through the doors and when they were satisfied no one was close enough to hear them, Bubbles rattled off. 

"How fucking stupid are you guys, bringing all of us to this casino, when not all of us even have fake IDs. And tell me, what's wrong with using real IDs?"

"It's just a precaution," whispered Julian. 

"Precaution? Julian I don't think you realize, you said this wasn't gonna be illegal, well guess what? Now it's illegal!" 

"Bubbs," Julian grabbed his friend's shirt, "it's gonna be fine." 

"That's what you always say," he pointed out. 

Jacob came to Julian's side and defended him. 

"Geez, Bubbles, calm down. Julian's not gonna fuck this up. If anything it's gonna be Ricky."

"What the fuck did you just say you scrawny little—" Ricky lunged at Jacob and Julian inserted himself in between the two of them, back towards Jacob, arms stretched out. 

"Calm down," he said through gritted teeth, "you can't start making a scene. You gotta be smart, Rick."

"And you gotta control that little dog," Ricky's eyes never left Jacob, "he's barking too much and I don't think he realizes his bite won't compare." 

Bubbles pulled Ricky away and hurriedly changed the subject.

"You know what, boys? I could really go for some food before we start playing. What do you say?" 

"Sounds fantastic, I'm fucking starving," Ricky grumbled. 

Jacob nodded and Julian acquiesced. They found one of those little kiosk maps and calculated their way to the food court. Bubbles and Julian stood in line for some nachos while Jacob and Ricky got some pizza and sandwiches, respectfully. 

The four chose a little table overlooking the gambling room, a floor below. It spanned from each wall and even further down the hallways to places they couldn't see. There were a few pool tables, plenty of couches, and slot machines lined the walls. Workers stood behind tables, observing for any slight of hand movements; waiters and waitresses slipped behind people's chairs, eagerly handing the patrons more and more drinks. 

Jacob sat down first and began eating his pizza as he waited for the rest of them to return. 

The food court had maybe fifty other people in it, but it had space to fill another two hundred. It occurred to him that there were a few more floors he had seen on the map, and in the directory there was a category labeled 'bars'. Perhaps this place had more than just a casino and a food court. It was certainly big enough. 

Julian sat down next to him, holding a big plate of nachos. Bubbles giddily joined across from him, already shoving some in his mouth. 

"Julian," Bubbles moaned, "these are the best fucking nachos I've had in years. I'm telling ya, way better than the ones you make at home." 

Jacob noticed Julian digging into his own serving of nachos. He'd counter every bite with a big gulp of coke. 

_Probably thirsty from the long drive. Missing the alcohol,_ Jacob mused. 

Ricky loudly joined them, setting down two large sandwiches and scraping his chair across the floor. 

"God, I fuckin' love food court food." 

They quickly devoured their food. Jacob finished first and just busied himself with watching the people passing by. 

An older woman with curled, ombré hair walked side by side a slightly shorter woman with perfectly cut blond hair. Their glossy dresses glittered under the bright lights, and Jacob was partly aware of their uneven, high-healed footfalls across the tiled floors.

Other people, each with different lives and stories mingled in and out of the court. He wondered if someone else in that sea of people looked back on the crowd, maybe even seeing him, and pondered his distant existence. 

He looked at Bubbles, who's eyes ran across everything with unquenchable interest. Despite Bubbles' subdued pessimism about the whole trip, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Perhaps it was but a result of forever being in nerve-wracked state: he learned to find happiness in the smallest corners. Simple pleasures like food and kitties made his days, and his friends made his life. 

And then there was Ricky, who seemed to regard everything with the same level of callous disinterest. In his defense, the disinterest might just be a wrongly interpreted buzz. Ricky's calm demeanor in the face of calamity was something Jacob admired. However amazing it was, Ricky was still completely and utterly unhinged. Perhaps Julian was the only thing standing between Ricky and the imminent destruction of the world—or at least Sunnyvale. 

And so many things had happened between him and Julian in the past few days. Technically, two mornings ago, his dad had kicked him out, and now he was in Halifax, about to earn a lifetime of fortune. If he managed to pull this off, Julian would be immensely proud of him—prouder than his dad ever was. He remembered getting shot on the bank of Great Bear River, and how despite his betrayal to Julian, he still called out to him, comforting him and instructing him to keep pressure of his wound. 

Jacob was a whirlwind of emotions that day. His loyalty had been stretched like a rubber band and his nerves were mangled through a wood chipper. He made some desperate decisions and unwise mistakes, but as he lay on the ground, back against the earth, twigs digging into his skin, and arm screaming, his confession washed through his body like a numbing drug and rung clear in the hazy air. 

It was left unanswered and now he understood why. His desperate, emotional outcries were not an honest declaration. He always knew his crush was read as hero-worship, but at least some of that infatuation was also admiration. 

He couldn't help the crush. Lahey simply spoke what everyone else was thinking: Julian was a sexy devil. While Jacob reflected on his meek frame and fine hair, he thought about how Julian was a mass of stable muscle, inviting smell, and thoughtful intellect. His hair was so dark and deliciously curled—Jacob often thought about running his fingers through that expertly styled hair. No matter what, morning, rain, gunfire, it managed to look damn good. His black tee stretched across his thick pectorals and he imagined that being held in those arms was not unlike bring evolved by the folds of a leathery couch. 

It made him go crazy, thinking about Julian, and the way he'd touched him lately, watched him dance, made him dinner, and now they ever shared a room. It was going to take a toll on Jacob not to get too hot under the covers. His discipline was as excellent as a young adult's could be. He had enough instinct to understand that making an unwanted advance on his somewhat conniving caretaker? would not be in his best interests. 

The noise of Bubbles crumpling his nacho paper pulled him out of his thoughts. Them Julian tipped his head back and slammed down the last of his pop. Ricky was about done. 

Julian stood up, not looking at any of them, with his lips tight. 

"I'll be right back," he said, before hurrying off to the restroom squished between the barbecue and coffee vendors. It was a little curious; Jacob didn't dismiss it immediately. He sensed something was off. 

He stole a glance at Bubbles to see if he picked up on something in the air, but it seemed not. Bubbles was happily sucking the remaining pop droplets off his ice cubes. 

Ricky however, laughed at Julian's retreating form, "fucking food always goes right through him." 

Ricky licked his fingers clean on mayo and mustard and they waited a few more minutes. 

But Jacob's leg twitched. He didn't mind being alone with Ricky and Bubbles, but Julian hadn't had a drink in a long time. He had no idea the kind of feelings that may be coursing through his body. It was almost certainly an addiction, and Jacob recalled a few things he learned about substance withdraw in High School.

Eventually Ricky got impatient and stood up. 

"We'll meet back at that info kiosk in two hours. Bubbs, let's go." The two of them got up and left, heading down to the elevator. 

Jacob waited, considering Julian was supposed to be watching him. He pushed in Ricky's chair and cleaned up the rest of their table. It tossed his beverage in the garbage and leaned over the railing. 

He saw Bubbles and Ricky entering from the far right. They headed to one of the tables where only a lone dealer sat, shuffling a deck of cards. 

He watched another group of people who seemed to be having a very bad night. One man had his face down on the table while another woman hung on his shoulder, clearly distressed. 

Jacob decided he'd go and find Julian. It had been a little too long. Maybe some seizure of shaking or whatever it was had overtaken him. Maybe he was lying on the bathroom floor, crying out for help, all while lost in a alcohol-starved-mind's-daydream of talking booze bottles and taunting tumblers. 

He weaved between people waiting in line and pushed open the bathroom door. It smelled somewhat clean looked polished. He heard the sounds of someone retching. 

"J–Julian? Are you alright?" He pressed his ear against the only closed stall and suddenly the retching ceased. 

"I'm fine, Jacob," Julian whipped his mouth. He was sure he'd gotten it all. The only thing coming out of him now was stomach acid-coke mix. "Just didn't agree with me," he panted. 

This was strange to him. Something in the air tickled his core but he couldn't quite place what it was. Somehow it seemed Julian was lying. After all, how bad could nachos fuck a guy up? Maybe Julian was lactose-intolerant.. Still, Jacob lacked any evidence beyond a sixth sense, so he ignored the thought, for now. 

"Is there anything I can do?" He grinned the side of the stall, wishing he could provide a comforting hand himself. 

Julian breathed in and out, trying to control the shaking in his arms and legs, wanting the acidic burn in his throat to disappear. He felt gross, kneeling on the floor, sweating over a toilet. But it had to be done. The food was disgusting. It clogged his veins and filled his stomach and he didn't deserve to be satisfied. The thought of what the food would do to his figure was enough that he didn't need to jam his fingers down his throat to make him throw up anymore. By now his body had developed a negative relationship with food. 

He sighed as he practically heard Jacob's worried thoughts seeping through the thin stall. He examined his nails, noticing they were weakening and the skin at the tips of his fingers was drying out. He ignored the itch his flaking hair pressed against his scalp. 

"Actually, yeah. Can you go get me a coffee?"

Jacob was a little surprised but agreed, "sure thing." 

Julian waited until he heard the door close behind Jacob before standing up and flushing the toilet. Sweat seeped through hair and clung to his brow. He as exhausted; he tensed his muscles, pleased they still listened. He checked his gun and wobbled to the sink and washing his face and hands. 

His eyes were watery and his skin was pale in the reflection of the mirror. Under his pale blue eyes he noticed bags formed there. Not from tiredness, but from depriving his body of skin-rejuvenating vitamins. He combed his hair back into place with his fingers and did so lightly, a little frustrated with the clumps of hair that easily came out. 

He dried his face with a paper towel and went off to meet Jacob. 

Julian quickly filled his stomach with coffee. Soon the caffeine would kick in and give him the edge he needed to stay sharp the rest of the night. 

Jacob was worriedly looking at him and he decided to play. 

"What's wrong?"

Jacob hesitated then sighed. Truly there was no good reason he could present, and Julian would resist every attempt, regardless. Maybe now wasn't the right place for this. He didn't know when was.

And just like that, those few precious seconds passed between the two. Those seconds spoke of the bridge between illness and Jacob was completely ignorant to the fact that this granted Julian more lost time; time spent in loneliness, self-hate, and sickness. 

"Nothing," he replied, "Ricky and Bubbles already went down."

"Good. You ready to gamble?"

"Yeah," Jacob said, "should be fun." 

Julian handed him two hundred dollars, made up of only twenties. 

"Bet well, play well, and we'll make a ton," he threw an arm around Jacob—he couldn't help himself—and leaned in close. Jacob could smell the light breath of coffee and the alluring tang of Julian's deodorant and earthy scent of his shampoo. "You're gonna do fantastic, Jacob." 

Jacob mentally said 'fuck it', and rested his arm across Julian's shoulders. If Julian was getting so touchy, what was the issue if he reciprocated? 

Julian was all hard muscle and hot flesh beneath the thin fabric of his black, cotton tee. He was solid in a way Jacob truly never imagined existed. Beyond a leather couch, even. 

And for a few moments they locked eyes. Neither of them saying anything. Both of them were at a loss: between feeling each other's frames, inhaling each other's scents, and boring into each other's eyes, their trains of thought derailed. 

It took a moment for both of them to pull themselves out of their stupor. 

Julian cleared his throat, examining the bustling room below them, "let's win our retirement, tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to a casino as I am sixteen. Nor have I been to Canada. I'm basically imagining a casino like an 18+/21+ mall. With good music.


	7. Setting Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Ricky shirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm so sorry it's been for fucking ever ugh I started working and got super distracted and just really busy with this tooth thing I had but it's here now!

Bubbles sat down at a table and the dealer fixed him up with his first round of cards. After a few rounds of Bubbles mostly betting ten dollar chips, he gained double his wagers. But the dealer wasn't concerned. Bubbles had a suspicion the decks they played with here were a little tampered with. 

"Hey, do me a favor, would ya," Bubbles paused as the dealer raised a wrinkled eyebrow in question, his silvery blue eyes glossy with age and experience, "shuffle the deck." 

"As you wish." He collected the cards and put them in a pile. He offered Bubbles to split the deck, and when he did, he watched as they calloused, practiced hands of the man much older than he seamlessly threaded the cards back into each other. The cards moved faster than a flip book and all he could see was the blur of the red backs, fluttering against each other. 

"What's your name?" Bubbles asked, as he waited for the man to shuffle and split the deck two more times. 

"Kenneth. My name tag says it," his words were as plain and flat as week old bread. His complexion seemed to match, as well.

"Oh, well, I can't really see that good," he replied. 

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, "you can't see well, yet you're at a casino?" 

Bubbles didn't see what the issue was, "I can read them cards fine. And that's what he's here for," he pointed to Ricky who was still standing behind him, watching the table, and the old man's hands. 

He payed no mind to the strangely dressed fellow, "and what is your name, son?" 

"Bubbles." He set out fifty dollars in chips. 

"Bubbles?" Kenneth raised equal and handed him a two cards: an eight and a seven. "I've heard stranger." His own card was a queen and the other remained face-down.

Bubbles scratched the table with his fingers, an older expression for 'hit'. Kenneth passed him a card: a four. 

Bubbles simply said, "stand". The dealer filled over his card, a three. He pulled out another card, this time a nine. That made his a bust. He pushed Bubbles his hundred dollar earnings in blue chips and collected the cards, distributing another round. 

Ricky padded Bubbles on the back, "I'm gonna find us some drinks. What'd you want?" 

"A gin and tonic would be nice, Ricky." 

He thought it'd be fine to leave Bubbles alone for a few minutes. After all, it was only one old man. With that, it set out, working his across the violet and crimson lighted rooms, feeling the baseline of the nearby disco floor deep in his ribcage. 

 

Julian spotted a table with three other men playing blackjack at it. The dealer was a man made of entirely sharp edges and dark, smooth skin. His head was shaved and at least two of his teeth were gold. To his left was a man with a gnarled ear and expanding cataracts. Under the soft lighting, his eyes glittered dangerously, shifting from person to person, silently observing. And the last one down the line was a robust man with a grin stretched across his ruddy face. On the table in front of him were nearly double the amount of empty shot glasses as his companions. 

Jacob wasn't intoxicated and he would remain hat way. He could easily beat some hardened, drunken men, all of whom would assuredly bet too high and fight to hard. And before they even knew it, they would gamble their whole pot away. 

"You looking for more players?" Julian asked, looking the dealer in the eye. 

He chuckled low, "You looking to get beaten?" 

Julian shrugged in the way only confident and clever men could. He nudged Jacob towards the table, in front of him. The three men sized him up and Julian figured they reasoned a laughably easy victory over a scrawny kid. 

"Be my guest," the dealer said, collecting the cards and shuffling them as Julian and Jacob sat down. 

Julian quickly lost focus on the game. Before he knew it the sound of slots and low drum beats drowned out everything and made him all too aware of the stomach acid still rough against his throat. His mouth tasted sour and he ached for something else to burn down his throat. 

Preferably something alcoholic.

He felt guilty as his leg twitched towards the bar, thinking about his promise to Jacob. But some rum would numb that, too. 

Jacob was too engrossed in winning to notice Julian slinking off—no matter how bulky he was, he could always slink off. The grease made him extra slippery. 

He wound his way between tables not truly looking at anything but his feet found the bar and his lips spoke the words and before he knew it there was a drink in front of him and a familiar breath against his cheek.


	8. Shit Storm's A Brewin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get their winnings and are too tired for anymore shit. 
> 
> Back in the trailer park, drunky the clown and his two gut friends smell the shit storm.

"What're you doing?" Ricky asked, blue eyes as clear as any sober man, but still as dangerous as he really was.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" Rebuked Julian. 

"Getting a drink."

"You're supposed to be watching Bubbles."

"And you're supposed to be watching that alien."

"Fuck off, Rick," he said, leaning against the bar, drink forgotten. 

"'Fuck off, Rick'? You fuck of, Julian." 

"Stop calling him an alien." 

"Why?" Ricky was incredulous, "I've told you, you're getting too attached. He was nothing but jail cover then and now he's just an easy money-making opportunity. Nothing more." 

He stopped avoiding Ricky's gaze and looked straight at him. Though a full two inches taller than him, Julian still couldn't intimidate Ricky that much. 

"Ricky, I'm serious, knock it off." 

"Julian–"

" _Ricky_."

Ricky gave up and grumbled, slamming down some alcohol concoction. Julian looked across the room and searched through the crowd for Jacob's table. He noticed the kid looking around nervously, probably wondering where he disappeared to. It looked like the other men had surrendered their loses to Jacob. They left the table rather disgruntled and stalked off, probably to snort and drink and fuck their pride back. 

Julian inclined his head and Ricky instinctually followed the cue. Julian left his untouched drink behind and they made their way to Jacob, who, from the looks of it, had stressed himself into an ulcer. 

"Hey, Jacob," said Julian, squeezing Jacob's shoulder. He felt the worry beneath Jacob's cotton tee ease away and almost missed the way Jacob tensed and sucked his breath in.

"You le–left and I didn't know where you were a –" Jacob sputtered, brown eyes wide and wet with worry.

"Hey, hey, it's fine." Julian looked away, "How'd you do?" 

Ricky sat on the table and picked up Jacob's earnings piled up in front of him. He started counting through, mouthing the numbers and miscounting. 

"Two thousand dollars," Jacob informed. He looked at Julian and warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched Julian's eyes light up and his lips curve up. 

"Fucking fantastic, buddy." Julian leaned down and patted Jacob's back a few times. He still sensed the tension and rubbed reassuringly, coaxing the fear out. 

"And now we'll have even more to bet and even more to win," mused Julian. Ricky took the money and put it in his track pants. 

"Let's see how Bubbles fuckin' did." Ricky slid off the table and the three of them found a nervous Bubbles, fretting around some support columns. 

"Dude, what the fuck you doing?" Ricky laughed. 

Upon recognizing his cohorts, Bubbles fixed them all a hard stare, though it was mostly directed at Ricky. 

"What the fuck are you doing, huh Ricky? Fucking gettin' up in the middle of a game. I finish and I'm standing around here with all this money—I've never held this much cash at a time before." 

Ricky grabbed Bubbles shoulders and looked at him with sincere, clear blue eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Bubbs," he admitted, "It's just, I can't sit still. You know that, my legs get all itchy and my brain starts telling me to move them."

Bubbles sighed and shoved the money at Ricky. 

"Here's your thousand." 

"Fucking nice," Julian grinned, "Three thousand dollars from two games? We're gonna be set by the end of the week. C'mon, let's round up some more dicks." 

"Oh, I don't think so, Julian," said Bubbles.

"What?" Julian turned to the shorter man.

"It's like eight, my nerves are shot to Buddha's nutsack, and I just wanna go fucking relax." 

While Ricky got right to work trying to settle Bubbles' nerves, Julian turned to Jacob. 

"Do you want to pack it in for the night?"

"Well?"

Julian bore straight into Jacob's eyes. He felt suspended in space, Julian's steel blue eyes being the only thing keeping him from falling away. 

"Yeah," he said, breaking the gaze. 

"Alright," Julian announced, "Let's head back to the hotel." 

 

Back in Sunnyvale, the shit winds were blowing. 

Phil Collins hoped that kicking Jacob out of his house would last maybe a few days. Finding himself without a roof or a warm bed would force Jacob back, apologizing for his obstinance. He didn't expect someone to take his boy in.

Much less the drug dealer Julian. 

He headed over to Julian's trailer, intent on breaking the bastard's door down. On his way he was surprised to find the former officer Lahey and Randy cursing about. 

"How the Hell's it going?" Phil greeted. 

"Now fucking good, Phil," Lahey responded without looking up. He and Randy stalked the overgrown grass, making kissing noises. 

Randy turned and leaned against the side of a trailer, sweat and oil making his body shine under the fading light. 

"Bubbles' cats are out of control," grunted Randy, dropping an empty carrier on the ground. 

"We haven't fucking seen him or the shitapillars all day. Julian's car is gone, too. No idea where the shitapillars went to, but they left the shitrats with us."

"Fuck," Phil screamed, "The drug dealers, again!"

"What the fuck are you on about, Phil?" Lahey, again, did not look up from where his head was buried underneath lattice-work, trying to drag out the cats who had made a breeding den under Danny's trailer. 

"The drug dealers, Jimmy, where ever they've gone, they've taken Jacob with them, I'm sure of it!"

Randy frowned and considered this, "Where the frig would they've gone?" 

"I don't know," Phil paced around, his gut and worry making him heave and huff, "Maybe I shouldn't have kicked him out . ."

"You kicked Jacob out? Why would you do that?" Randy had pulled a Popsicle from God knows where and sucked on it, staining his lips orange. 

"I thought it would make him realize he's making bad choices. I think I just made it worse." 

Randy gave him a sympathetic smile and Lahey emerged from the crawl space, dusting off his clothes. 

"Yep," he said, Phil unable to read him under the aviators, "You fucked up, Phil." He patted the blubber-man on the shoulder. 

"Don't worry, we'll find them."

"How, Mr. Lahey," Randy questioned.

"Simple, Randy," he grinned, "Birds of a shit feather flock in shit together, and I know where we can find a shit canary." 

 

The three men sloughed over to Lucy's trailer. Only a few lights were on, but the could hear the ruckus of Lucy, Sarah, and what was most likely Trinity sitting around, laughing and cooking dinner. Randy rapped on the door over and over again, nearly denting the poor thing. 

"Lucy, open up, it's an emergency." 

They heard the noise die down and Lucy swung the door open, almost clocking Randy in the head. 

"What the fuck do you three want?" Lucy set her hand on her hip and barely looked at the lot through her long eyelashes. 

"Where did Ricky go to?" Lahey asked. 

Lucy glared, "Why the fuck would I tell you? So you can fuck him over?"

"Lucy, this is important," Lahey seethed. 

This was when Phil Collins started yelling, "Your drug dealers took my boy God knows where a—"

"Phil, calm down," Randy said.

Lucy just laughed and let the door slam on Randy's fingers. 

"Cocknuggets!" 

And so, the three men left and grumbled around the park in the twilight—

Until Corey showed up. 

"Hey, dudes," Corey said, sucker sticking out of his mouth. His clothes were the same baggy shit he was always wearing. Both his hands were shoved in his pockets and he walked in a way only Ricky could describe—the walk of a pengawin. 

Lahey immediately got an idea. 

"Hey, Corey, you seen Jacob around," he asked, trying to sound as casual and non-plotting as possible. He had to be careful. Corey could get spooked.

"Yeah, why?" 

"Well," Lahey stepped in close, "Phil is looking for him." 

Corey shot the walrus a look, "Oh, why? So you can kick him out of his clothes, too?"

"That's just the thing, he wants to apologize. Don'cha, Phil?" Lahey didn't even spare a glance. 

"Of course." Phil looked at Corey, who was fidgeting under their eyes. "I think I made a mistake forcing him out." 

Corey just chuckled, "Yeah, well it's too late, dude, he's working casinos for Julian. They're all in Halifax right now. I'm s'posed to stay behind and watch Bubbles' cats. I'm also not s'posed to tell anyone where they went. Oh shit—dude, please don't tell them I told you, Ricky will give me another strike."

They left Corey fretting in the dusty road while they piled into the tan shitbox. 

"We're getting Jacob. No telling what shit can happen in that place. Halifax cops are all dumb and volatile," Lahey started the car and gulped some liquor down, "Even those shit idiots can't handle them." 

And so the three men drove in the night to what would be one of the most unforgettable weekends of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I'm so happy to get his up!!


	9. What The Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a pool. 
> 
> There's some stuff after the pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm so sorry please I didn't mean to randomly stop updating this story and I'm also sorry about this chapter I
> 
> Frick.

Julian took all the money, stashed it in a small bag and set it on the night table beside his bed. He looked at the alarm clock, it's little red numbers proclaiming 9:22. 

He heard rummaging behind him and turned to find Jacob rifling through a closet. He was dressed in a water-resistant shirt and some dark blue swimming trunks covered with soft green flowers. 

"What're you doing?" Julian asked, eyeing the subtle curves of Jacob's legs. 

"Looking for a towel."

"Are you going swimming?" 

Jacob held a fluffy white towel in his hands and looked at Julian with what could only be a practiced innocence. He looked so vulnerable, Jacob must know what he's doing. Maybe he thinks making himself appear fragile makes him less of a target. Problem was, it usually didn't. 

It only made Julian more worried. 

"Y-Yeah," Jacob cocked his head to the side, brown hair curling around his cheeks, "Why wouldn't I? It looks like a really nice pool. You should go, I know Ricky and Bubbles are going, too." 

"What? When did they say this?"

"While you were counting the money we talked about it." 

"I don't have any swim trunks." 

Jacob shrugged, "Ricky said he brought all his pairs."

"Why?"

"Wasn't sure which one fit." 

Jacob made a bold move. He tossed the towel over his shoulder, grabbed Julian's wrist, and tugged him along. 

"C'mon, it'll be fun," he laughed, "You'll smile. Might take your mind off the liquor."

"Wh—"

They left their room and heard shouts coming from the pool deck below. It was Ricky and Bubbles, already splashing around in the water. 

"Hurry the fuck up, boys!" Bubbles smiled, now caring how water droplets covered his glasses, "It's so fucking nice."

"Julian," Ricky called up, "I got like ten pairs of swimming pants here. I'm sure one of them will fit you."

Jacob and Julian entered the little elevator and quickly joined their friends. After trying on three of Ricky's trunks he found the ones that fit him. He took off his shirt and threw it on the pile with the rest of the clothes. 

He came back on the deck and noticed how no one else seemed to be at the pool, despite the hotel claiming to be full. Maybe everybody else was too busy banging to come swimming. 

Jacob sat on the edge of the pool and Julian didn't quite smirk at the way Jacob took in his shirtless, muscly chest. He felt warm when he realized Jacob's gaze descended past the elastic waistband of his shorts.

"Jacob, why aren't you in the water?" He walked down the stairs, something he knew Ricky didn't do by the wet spots darkening parts of the floor. 

Jacob just shrugged and looked away. 

"A better question is why he's wearing a shirt right now." Ricky commented

"I just like shirts," replied Jacob. 

"Probably, cause otherwise you'd fucking disappear, alien twiggy."

"Rick," Julian growled a warning and Ricky looked both unsurprised and deeply interested—like his brain gears were twisting, trying to piece a jigsaw of emotions and words together. A picture was indeed forming, although he couldn't recognize it yet. He didn't have all the pieces. 

So he decided to let it go and drift over to Bubbles, still somewhat aware of Julian and the alien. 

Julian wadded over to Jacob, who was only ankle deep, gently swinging his legs back and forth. 

"Didn't you want to swim?" Asked Julian, quietly. 

"Yeah, but when Ricky saw me wearing a shirt, he kinda knocked my spirits." He wouldn't look up. 

"Look, it doesn't matter if you wear a shirt, alright?" Julian pulled Jacob's chin up, hoping their eyes would meet, and some confidence would bleed into the poor boy.

Now, mind you, Julian didn't really try to make sexual tension. No one tries to create sexual tension. It's an automatic response when two bodies send out the same signal. It's actually often a pretty good sign that the other reciprocates your feelings if the atmosphere is charged. 

But, both Jacob's admiration and attraction to Julian and Julian's own protective instincts and mature libido combined and made the simple action of Julian touching Jacob's chin so much more breath taking

for both of them. 

The moment his eyes glanced at Jacob's lips, Julian knew he was fucked. So he grabbed Jacob by the waist and pulled him into the pool—not missing the gasp Jacob emitted. 

Water rushed his ears and he untangled himself from Jacob, emerging from the water to see a soaked puppy. 

Admittedly, a smiling, soaked puppy. 

 

The boys spent another forty minutes playing Marco Polo and some other game Ricky called "who can drink the most pool water without gagging", before Bubbles complained that his fingers were pruny. 

Ricky and Bubbles disappeared down the hall and Jacob was left alone with Julian and the sounds of their wet foot steps. He felt Julian watching him. He tried not to notice as he swiped the key. It made the hairs on his neck stand up and butterflies flutter in his stomach. 

Jacob simply went off into the bathroom and switched into a dry tee and sweats. 

Julian pushed himself against a wall and waited. He thought. Thought of all the bad alcohol-fueled decisions he's made in the past. Maybe he spent so much time slightly buzzed that he was rational then, but irrational sober. Like Lahey. He shuttered at the comparison. 

He heard Jacob emerge from the bathroom. The kid's eyes were half closed and his hair was slightly damp. 

"Tired?" Julian ignored his pulse picking up. Jacob was lean and perhaps even delicate. 

"Mm," Jacob nodded, half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed, and lips parted. He stretched and the shirt slipped up to reveal precious inches of skin. 

_He's got to be doing it on purpose,_ Julian thought. Jacob wandered over and made about setting up for bed. Julian didn't take his eyes off him once. 

It reminded Julian of the first time he had ever drunk. Standing on the precipice, the point of no return. That moment between bringing the glass to his lips and dropping it; the chance to remain ordinary or to sin; to remain a part of the old world of safety or jump into foreign territory. It made his stomach swell with excitement. 

And then Jacob brushed against Julian and their world forever changed. Once Julian grasped Jacob's hips, and Jacob arched back and teasingly gasped, there was no going back. 

Julian's hands wandered, groping and squeezing. So much blood shot down Jacob's body he became lightheaded and leaned back on Julian. He groaned and gripped the boy's hips tighter, hooking his fingers teasingly under the waistband. 

"Shhit—" Julian leaned down and pressed his face into Jacob's neck. 

"Julian—ahh~ don't–don't stop."

"Fuck, kid."

Jacob turned, threw his arms around Julian's neck, and pulled him down for what was his first kiss. 

Julian felt under Jacob's shirt and tried to remove it. Jacob momentarily panicked and pushed Julian away. Julian was confused by Jacob covered himself by pushing Julian all the way onto the bed. 

Jacob crawled on top of him and pressed his body against Julian and moaned. Julian squeezed his ass and flipped Jacob underneath him. He pinned Jacob's hands by his head with one hand and kissed down his neck, not really meaning to leave dark marks, but he couldn't help himself. With his free hand he felt under Jacob's shirt, ghosting his fingers up the taut stomach, past the smooth chest, and over the rough—

"What the fuck?" 

Jacob couldn't stop him this time and Julian pulled the younger's shirt up as far as he could and his blood ran cold. Old, grey scars and new, scabbed cuts twisted just under his collar bone and reached all the way to his arms and stopped before the end of his chest. 

Julian looked up. Jacob was terrified. He easily forced his way out of Julian's slacked hold and bolted past him and ran into the bathroom. 

He heard the door lock and panicked sobbing. 

 

He really, really needed a drink.


End file.
